Plans are Tiny Prayers to Father Time
by Sunburned-Stickperson
Summary: When Desmond finds out that his entire life has been planned out, from his escape at the farm to Lucy's flirting to entice him to help the assassins out, he doesn't want to help anymore. He turns to Shaun, the "outsider," to get him out. To make him free.
1. Chapter 1

**You know, I'm so sorry I posted the other one. It was a train wreck (I'm pretty sure it still is), but I revised it once and am going through it again.**

**Pt.2 pg.35 of Kinkmeme

* * *

**Desmond leaned back in the chair, a look of astonishment on his face. He scanned the email again: "Everything is going according to plan. However, I'm still in the process of healing, but everything is falling into place. We have the Apple, and he still thinks his running away was his idea… He still believes his past is his freely chosen past. Sincerely, Lucy Stillman."

He frowned. Behind him, he heard Shaun. "Doing okay there, mate? Find something interesting?"

Desmond whirled around and scowled at him. "Were you in on this?"

"In on what?"

"In on my escape and everything being planned?"

"What are you shitting about?"

Desmond scowled and gestured to the screen. Shaun walked over, set his tea down on the table in front of him, and leaned over his shoulder to read. Finally, he pointed at a line.

"I have yet to tell Shaun, since he was not born of assassins' blood. He threw quite a wrench in things when he and Desmond started bonding. We'll have to be careful, or else he might start leading Desmond astray. The man is smarter than we realized: he did, after all, hack Abstergo."

Desmond scowled and looked at him. Shaun was frowning.

"Don't trust the outsider." Shaun hissed, his eyes narrowing. "I should apply to be an Abstergo spy. You can get the applications for it online."

Desmond scoffed. "This is just ridiculous. This pisses me off."

Shaun stared at him. "I've always been slightly irritated that I was always on the 'outside' because of my blood." He snarled. "Racist pigs."

Desmond looked at him, pissed off. "They don't like how we're friends, either. That makes me even madder."

Shaun was studying him. "Because, Heaven forbid, you have a say in your own life for once, hm?"

"Yeah. Heaven forbid." He clicked out of Lucy's email account and closed the laptop. "Suddenly, I don't really want to help them anymore. I don't wanna search for the next piece."

Shaun pulled a chair up beside him. They had moved from Ezio's palazzo after Lucy was stabbed and met up with another team, and all eight were now working together. Desmond sagged forward, covering his face with his hands and sighing, frustrated.

"I just wanna be free."

There was silence for a few minutes before he felt Shaun place a hand on his shoulder.

"We can be free, mate, if you're willing to work with me. Remember? 'We'll have to be careful. The man is smarter than we realized'?"

Desmond looked up at him, utterly flabbergasted. "You'd be willing to work with me?"

Shaun's eyes flicked to the laptop as he leaned back. "I don't have a plan yet, but I've got one forming. Give me some time, and I can have something. You're bearable enough once you've actually got some intelligence in that thick head of yours."

Desmond looked upset.

"I mean it in a good way, pet. I can get us both out of here."

"I don't want to get into the Animus again. They're close to the right memory. I can feel it."

Shaun studied him closely for a moment, then leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"How far are you willing to go?"

He regretted answering that question as he stood at the kitchen table, holding the butcher knife in his hand. His other hand splayed on the table. His stomach twisted in knots as he thought about what he was about to do. Thankfully, he remembered Shaun was going to get some high-end painkillers along with the groceries he had been charged to get.

He ground his teeth. It would just have to be done. If he wanted out of the Animus, he needed a bad injury. And this would fit right up the alley of the Bleeding Effect. He readied the knife in his hand and cursed loudly in Arabic.

In one motion, he brought it slamming into his finger, and he screamed as he felt the bone break and the finger sever. He reeled back, crying out as he clutched his hand tightly, cursing Malik and the Apple. Perhaps his thought patterns were a little too easy to keep clear when he needed to "be" in a foreign past.

As he watched the blood spill out, his screams and yells turned to curses and shouting. William was the first one to come in, and he froze momentarily at the sight before screaming for bandages. Desmond turned on him, grabbing the knife from the table and raising it to fight, screaming in Arabic for Malik. William was approaching him cautiously as Desmond fought against blacking out from the pain. He was cursing and screeching as Rebecca came in with plenty of medical supplies before dropping them in shock.

Desmond had his hand pressed tightly against his stomach, tears rolling down his cheeks as he continued yelling for Malik, for his supplies, for the drugs that he would burn, and the fire to cauterize the wound. It took some time, but eventually, William and Erudito managed to pin him down as Rebecca sealed it with a cigarette lighter. He was screaming and crying as they did so, and he accused them of being Templars and bit his tongue so he wouldn't leak any information.

When it was finally bandaged and over with, he was so numb from the pain, all he could was sit there, slouched over, and listen to them talk.

"Perhaps the bleeding effect is worse than we thought?" Lucy murmured.

"Either way, we'll have to put off searching for the next piece," William said.

"Could anybody translate what he was screaming?" Erudito asked.

"Something about needing Malik to get him pain killers, and how the Apple caused his finger to reappear," William replied.

All he could do was whimper, and it felt like too long before Shaun returned, pretending to be storming mad about letting him do that, and he could only feel a flood of relief when the historian injected his arm with morphine.

The man leaned to whisper into his ear, "All done, mate. A few more days and my application will be cleared. Once we know I'm getting a paycheck from Abstergo, we'll get the Hell out of here."

He refused to sleep with anyone but Shaun that night, spewing Arabic and pretending he was Malik to make sure they believed he really was going crazy.


	2. Chapter 2

He spent the next week doped up on the morphine Shaun had gotten. When week two—they still hadn't heard back from Abstergo—rolled around, they put him on something a little less strong, and he could feel the throb in his hand. He was lying on Shaun, who was rubbing his back lightly as he slouched against the man's chest. He noticed the wary stare Lucy was giving Shaun as the historian read a book while they relaxed on a pile of pillows and blankets they had collected from around the house. William didn't seem too pleased as he worked, occasionally casting a glance over to them before turning back to his computer screen, his frown deepening.

Desmond kept the bandaged hand close to his body, relaxing slightly as Shaun continued the back rub. When he looked, he could swear he could see a smirk on Shaun's lips. Apparently, the man noticed the uneasy stares as well. He was almost asleep, the drugs humming pleasantly through his veins, when Shaun set the book down.

"Lucy, am I to take Desmond out with me when I go grocery shopping tomorrow?"

Lucy frowned. "No, I think he should stay in here. You aren't on grocery shopping duty again aren't you?"

Shaun shrugged. "I am as punishment for eating all of your yogurt, remember?"

Desmond forced himself to look at her, and he almost smiled. She looked like she had just been caught in a trap. One Shaun had probably laid exactly for this purpose.

"And if I am to really suffer, I should take him with me. He's irritating enough like this, falling asleep on my lap—the man drools when he dreams he's in Italy—and surely taking him outside would help him feel a little better, while punishing me at the same time."

He closed his eyes, listening to Shaun's heartbeat and enjoying the rise and fall of his chest. He heard Lucy sigh, frustrated, after a minute or two of silence.

"I suppose you're right. I'm still pretty mad about you eating the strawberry yogurt. Take him with you."

"Are you sure that's wise, Lucy, while he's still under drugs?" William said.

"He's not on morphine anymore. A bit of a breather would do him some good," Shaun spat.

"As much as I hate to admit it, William, Shaun's right. Desmond probably does need fresh air."

"Then let someone else take him."

Shaun chuckled, and Desmond instinctively snuggled a little closer. He blamed Ezio for his cuddling problems.

"What, and let me know I can get out punishment? That would make Lucy look bad."

There was a tense silence.

"Fine," he heard William growl.

He smiled, accidentally calling the historian "Leonardo" as he fell asleep. When he woke next, he was curled beside Shaun on their bed, the early morning rays of the dawn peeking in through the crack of the curtain. He yawned and stretched, flinching and letting out a small whimper when he bumped his hand.

Shaun was awake immediately. "Doing okay there, mate?"

He pulled his hand back to his body. "It hurts."

Shaun rubbed his eyes and pulled his glasses on, blinking wearily at him. "I can believe it. I'm surprised you actually went through with it."

"Anything to get out of the Animus. And you needed it, didn't you? The distraction?"

Shaun chuckled. "I could work with whatever you give me. I told you: I'm getting us out of here."

Desmond frowned and clutched his hand close to his stomach. "I feel useless."

Shaun chuckled as stretched slowly in the bed. "You'll be the one driving, Desmond. That's why we're waiting."

He hummed and watched as Shaun closed his eyes again. He couldn't help but think how lucky he was to have befriended the historian. The day started slowly, and as Desmond waited for Shaun to finish getting ready to go shopping, he logged into Lucy's account after taking the pain medication. He clicked on one sent just after he had come out of their room.

"To: Grand Master Jeremiah Feverlight

From: Lucy Stillman

Dear Grand Master Feverlight,

I'm sure you've heard from William, but Shaun and Desmond are getting uncomfortably close. Not only are they quickly becoming close friends, but also, they are now sharing the same bed. We're going to have to keep a close eye on them. Shaun is up to something: we can tell. I don't know if Desmond is in on it or not, but I wouldn't be surprised if Shaun was using the poor boy to obtain whatever he's planning.

William informed you of Desmond's current state. He's healing rapidly, and we should be able to put him back in by the end of the week. However, we may have to take a little more time off to make sure he's still mentally sound. If he truly is our 'savior' or 'prophet' or whatever Minerva called him, then we can't risk him going the same route as Subject 16.

I will contact you next week with an update on both Shaun and Desmond. I request back up to watch the city to keep an eye on Shaun. He can't be trusted. The man has become too cocky. He knows his plan is working, whatever it is. I will look into it further.

Sincerely,

Lucy Stillman"

Desmond frowned as Shaun walked out, adjusting his glasses. "Ready to go to town, Desmond?"

He gestured to the email, and he watched Shaun read it. By the end, the historian looked even smugger. "They think they can outsmart me? I'm one step ahead of them. Come on, mate, let's go."

Desmond was confused as Shaun hollered to the others they were leaving. He watched the man grab a small satchel near the door. As they walked into the street, the British man gave him a serious stare. He took off his headset and popped out the batteries, gesturing for Desmond to do the same. When he did, Shaun said, "Turn on your Eagle Vision. Don't let it down until I tell you. I'll guide you through the streets. Keep a sharp eye out for red figures, and tell me if you see one."

The assassin chuckled and did as he was told. They were one-step ahead of the game. He kept his hand against his stomach to protect his finger as he looked around. Shaun had him by the arm as he guided him to a small café, and they slipped inside.

"Any red in here?"

Desmond shook his head, but pointed to a table in a secluded corner. "But they're all blue. Are we meeting them?"

Shaun nodded. "We're safe. You can exit Eagle Vision. And please, Desmond, trust me. That's all I'm asking. I know you aren't going to like this, but all I'm asking for is your trust."

Desmond frowned as he followed the man to the table, where he froze. Dr. Warren Vidic and three other men were in a large booth and table combination.

"Pleasure to see you again, Mr. Miles."

Desmond snarled, and Shaun placed a hand on his shoulder. "Sit, Desmond. I know you hate him, but he's absolutely essential right now."

The assassin's lip curled as he took the farthest seat from him. Shaun sat beside him, the faintest hint of worry in his eyes. They were introduced to the head of Abstergo, Mr. Nickleson; an elder man in charge of recruitment, Mr. Raycroft; and a blonde woman who was the head of the intelligence-gathering department, Miss Tierra. After the introductions, they placed their orders and chattered idly for a bit. Finally, they got to the meat of the conversation.

"And how do we know that you won't turn traitor as you have now?" Mr. Raycroft asked.

Shaun placed an elbow on the table and leaned forward slightly. "Well, the only thing I can say for sure is that you can't, and I pointed that out when I contacted you the first time."

"This isn't helping your case, Mr. Hastings," Tierra said.

"I know, bear with me. I've always been a bit of an opportunist, and two weeks ago, Desmond brought it to my attention that the biggest opportunities do not lie with the assassins."

"So you'll be using us? That doesn't make us excited about hiring you," Nickleson commented.

"Ah, but you're overlooking several important points. The things that have pushed me to apply are also giving you your greatest opportunities. You see: we need to escape from the assassins. We need to be on the road. You can give us this. And, in return, we are willing to find the map located within the Apple with the locations of the pieces of Eden and give it to you."

Vidic raised an eyebrow. "The map?"

"The same one we saw at the end of the memories with Altair," Desmond spat.

Vidic nodded once. "And what else will you bring to Abstergo?"

Shaun sighed and shifted in his seat, "Not only do you get access to the Apple, but you now have the prophet for the pieces of Eden. Desmond is the one that can work them easily, and with him, you have access to all of the temples."

"We have access to—"

"Some of them, some require specific bloodlines—Desmond's bloodline—to get into. When you find one, you tell us, and we'll meet you there and guide you through to the the chamber with the piece. Our lives are in your hands, Dr. Vidic, and your plans are dictated by the pieces, which we can get to you if you let us. We are giving you access to everything you need to move your plans forward."

"You sound desperate," Nickleson said.

"We are desperate," Shaun said. He rummaged around in the satchel at his side and pulled out the Apple, keeping one hand on top of it as it rested on the table. They all looked shocked.

"We need to get out of here, and we're willing to give you access to this and everything it contains, if you can give us what we need to get out. You'll have Desmond, and Desmond can work the Apple. All we want is to be on the road. Give us a laptop and a cell phone, and we'll keep you in touch. We'll send you photos of the maps. I can hack the assassins' database—trust me: I've been all over it, and I can take all the memories we have so far for your revision in case we missed something."

Desmond was watching them closely. There was a loaded silence for several minutes while Shaun held up the Apple and put it in the bag.

"Think about it: you're clearly in control here. You've getting more out of this than we are."

Desmond had to admit that the historian impressed him.

"How about if you two leave and return in a couple hours. Will that cause a problem?" Tierra said. "We can give you an answer then."

Shaun bit his lip. "It'll be pushing it, but I think we can pull it off."

Desmond looked at Shaun but said nothing. He would trust Shaun. The man rose, pulling out his wallet. Nickleson held up a hand. "We'll pay for it and meet you at the storage facilities in the center at two."

Shaun nodded once and gestured for Desmond to follow him.

"Thank you, sir," Shaun said as they left.

When they were out on the street, Desmond turned to him. "So what do we do until then?"

"Play a game of 'hide from Lucy,' and get the shopping done."

They ended up in a small park in the center of the small town. Desmond was running laps around it as Shaun waited on the bench, watching him closely. After several hours of letting him play around, Shaun called him over.

"Feeling better?" he said.

Desmond grinned widely. "Hell yeah! I think I like this place!"

Shaun gave him a sad smile. "Yes, well, we need to get the groceries and then go meet the Abstergo executives."

Desmond was full of energy as they walked out of the park to the small shops set up around in the center square. The park was connected to the center. People were bustling to and from as they went about their business. He was excited to be a part of such life. It had been forever since he had been outside during the day. When he noticed Shaun staring at him, he threw him a large grin.

"What?"

Shaun shook his head. "This is the first time I've seen you so alive in a long time."

Desmond was shocked, but grinned and nudged his side with his good hand. "I'm so excited! All this energy in the air and the people all around—I feel like I'm in the modern times! Just look at them all! Surrounded by all these people keeps away the ghosts from the bleeding effect."

He saw Shaun smile softly as they entered the small grocery store.

"And it's the first time in a long time I've been in a store. With lighting fixtures." He grinned as Shaun grabbed a basket. "I wish they'd let me out more like this. Then it wouldn't be so bad!"

"It's a pity you have to deal with all this shit," Shaun said.

Desmond wrapped an arm around his shoulders, letting his bandaged hand flop. "I'm glad you talked them into it. I needed this. Thanks, Shaun."

He saw Shaun give a tiny smile. "It was no problem."

Desmond was practically bouncing by the time they found the Abstergo representatives at the storage room labeled 007.

"He certainly looks livelier," Tierra said.

"I haven't been outside during the day in way too long," he smiled and rocked on his heels, but not before sending another glare at Vidic.

"Getting down to business," Raycroft said, "when are you planning on leaving?"

"Before the end of next week, when Lucy's back up should arrive."

Desmond frowned. "But it doesn't take that long to get here."

Shaun gave him a worried look. "It will once I mess their system up. You're hand still needs a bit more time."

Desmond grinned. "Awesome."

"We've made our decision," Nickleson said, "and we're recruiting you. We've worked out a salary you can make it on, and we've got everything you'll need."

Tierra pulled out two cell phones with the Templar insignia etched into the top. "These are for you. You are to call us every night once you hit the road. Whenever you are in a hotel room, you are to contact us with video phone on the laptop."

She pulled out a metal briefcase. "It's already set up. We will have a contact for you to meet later, where you will give them the chips with the memories."

Shaun nodded.

"And as for your vehicle, in order to make sure you don't become too bogged down with things, we have given you this."

Raycroft walked over and opened the storage room. Desmond stared at the vehicle.

"It's…"

He stepped forward unsteadily until he could place his good hand on the motorcycle.

"It's my old motorcycle."

His smile turned into a huge grin.

"It's my old motorcycle! I can't believe it! I thought for sure my baby was gone!"

He laughed and ran his hand over it, taking his time to worship the bike with his touches.

"Oh my God, it's really her again," he breathed after he was done. "Right down to the fake plates."

Without thinking, he moved to brush his other hand against her and bumped his injured finger. He cursed loudly and jumped up and away, cradling his hand. He could feel tears forming as he pressed it against his stomach, curling over it. He felt Shaun's arm around his shoulders and whimpered once.

He felt something pressed into his good hand: his pain medications. He swallowed them and washed it down with the water from the bottle Shaun gave him. After a few minutes, his finger stopped throbbing. He was still crouched on the pavement as he looked over at the others.

Shaun looked worried. "Still with us, Desmond?"

Desmond nodded once. "Can we go back, now?"

Tierra nodded. "We will wait for your first call. By the end of next week, you said?"

"Yes, or earlier if it's safe enough," Shaun said as Desmond walked over, still slightly curled over his hand.

He didn't pay attention to goodbyes as they gathered the groceries and headed back.

"Remind me when we're alone, and I'll give you your cell phone and id cards. The laptop case is in my satchel, so don't let me forget."

"You knew they wouldn't turn you down." Desmond looked at him.

Shaun chuckled and adjusted the bags in his arms. "No, men like that aren't hard to understand. I knew that if I just showed them the Apple, then it would be a sealed deal."

Desmond smiled warmly. "Hey Shaun…"

The British man met his gaze. "Yes?"

"Thank you. You have no idea how much all this means to me. For once in my life, I feel free."


	3. Chapter 3

The house they resided in was rather large, resting on the edge of the town. It was an hour's walk to the center and back, and around the house was wide, open space. There were four bedrooms in the house and a living room big enough for all of their gear. The kitchen was big enough for t hem to eat in, and they even had a dishwasher. Desmond was bouncing into the house, the bags in his good hand feeling surprisingly light. Perhaps it was the thought of freedom. Shaun sighed when they entered, faced with an irritated Lucy.

"And what the Hell took you two so long?"

Desmond stopped. "Huh?"

"It was a grocery run. You took six hours to buy groceries?"

Desmond was surprised. He pursed his lips.

"Well, savior of the world here needed to stretch his legs, and so when we went to the center of town, we stopped by the park."

"And you spent five hours horsing around in the park?"

Shaun nodded once. "Go put the groceries up, Desmond, and then unwrap your hand. It's about time we re-bandaged it."

Desmond nodded and walked off to the kitchen, listening as Shaun and Lucy argued.

"We got sidetracked while he was playing around. Is it really so bad that we're getting along enough we enjoy spending time together? You used to get on our case all the time about being so argumentative, and now when we're finally bonding, it's no longer okay?"

"What? No, we were worried, and your headsets were off!"

"They were?"

"Yes! Did you not notice?"

"I told you: we were having a grand time on our own."

"We were worried!"

Desmond put the yogurt into the fridge as Rebecca came in with Erudito.

"Hey, man, what took so long?"

He looked at the man. "Sorry, we lost time playing around in the park."

Rebecca laughed. "Man, that sounds like fun. This is the first time you've really gotten out in a long time, hasn't it?"

He nodded and grinned. "Yeah, it was nice. I'm not gonna lie."

"And your hand?" Erudito asked.

He frowned and rose, looking at the bandages. "I bumped it once, and it hurt like Hell, but Shaun had the pain medications."

Rebecca's eyebrow rose, and she smiled slyly. "He's been getting awfully close to you."

Desmond nodded as he undid the bandages. "Yeah, it's nice that we finally can get along."

She grinned. "Has he made a move yet?"

"What?" He looked up at her with the bandage partly unwrapped.

"He's been mooning over you since you met."

He scoffed. "Then why was he so terrible to me?"

Rebecca hopped up on the counter as he finished taking off the bandages. "Ouch, that looks nasty."

"I blame Altair."

He felt Altair frown in the back of his mind, and he uttered a silent "thank you" to his ancestor. The flesh was halfway healed. It was grey, brown, and black around the center, fading into stark pink on the outside. His lip pulled back in disgust as he looked at it.

"Because it was so clear you were destined for Lucy—until you stabbed her."

He scowled. "It's not my—"

"We know," Erudito said. "We all thought you were going to end up dating Lucy, and then Shaun just kinda swooped in."

"Oh." He ran his fingertips lightly around the area where the stub was. He shuddered as it tingled almost painfully. He said a silent prayer in hopes his sacrifice was worth it.

"So are you digging it?" Rebecca said with a grin.

"Huh?"

"Are you gonna sleep with him? 'Cause he needs it."

"That is the shoddiest lie I've ever heard! Bloody Hell, Lucy!"

The three looked at the door at Shaun's outrage.

"We have to be on high alert, Shaun! There are Templars everywhere searching for us! You can't just fuck around outside because you feel like it! I know Desmond's suffering, but we all are—"

"Belt up, Lucy! We're back safe and sound, or did you forget he can use Eagle Vision?"

There was tense silence, and Desmond peeked around the corner. Lucy's body language said she had. William was standing near her, their backs turned to him.

"See? I told you: we were fine."

"Why are you Brits always so arrogant?"

Shaun sneered. "Because we are always right."

Shaun pushed past her with the groceries.

"You weren't right when you lost to the American colony."

He saw Shaun freeze mid-step. Fighting with Shaun was one thing, but fighting with Shaun and bringing in history? The man slowly put his foot down and turned around. His voice was cold and challenging.

"Remember, Miss Stillman, that the American colony brought down the British Empire with the help of others. And if one impoverished colony can bring down an empire in its heyday, then it's a matter of time before someone pulls the carpet from under you."

He saw Lucy's eyes go wide as she heard the underlying threat. Desmond pulled back into the kitchen and looked at Rebecca and Erudito. They were both shocked into silence as Shaun entered the kitchen, fuming. He set the bags down. Desmond snuck up behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist, causing him to jump.

"Christ, Desmond—"

"Calm down, Shaun." He rested his chin on Shaun's shoulder, adjusting his injured hand carefully. "You're going to die young if you keep this up."

Shaun scoffed. "You're a bloody idiot."

Desmond grinned. "I know. You've told me all ready."

He could feel Shaun slowly relax in his grip, despite the tense atmosphere.

"Care to help me with my finger?"

He held his hand up to see the new gap. Shaun sighed. "What am I, your mum?"

He laughed and let go, leaving to get the medical supplies.

As he left, he looked at Rebecca, "You know what? I think I will go for him."

He wandered into his bedroom and to the bathroom—courtesy of Lucy after he didn't make it to the bathroom after a nightmare. As he dug through the bathroom cabinet, he heard William come up behind him.

"Desmond."

He looked over his shoulder briefly. "Yeah, what's the matter? Beside the fact Shaun's being a general asshole."

William sighed. "We want you to be mo—"

"Yeah, yeah, more careful. I know. I used my Eagle Vision, though. We're cool."

"That doesn't matter. What if—"

It was about there he tuned William out as he rifled around for the bandages. By the time he had found it, William was done, and Desmond turned around, looking sheepish.

"Yeah, I get it. I'm sorry for worrying you guys. I was just having so much fun I didn't think about it."

William placed a hand on his shoulder, and he looked at the man apologetically.

"It's all right, Desmond; just be careful," he said before turning to leave. And as William left, he flicked in into the Vision just long enough he could see the red body walking away.

Shaun came in not too long after with a growl. He closed the bedroom door, leaving the bathroom door open.

"That witch. I'm glad you gave me the motivation to get out of here, Desmond," he hissed quietly.

He smiled softly and let Shaun continue. "She's even more insufferable than you were, and for the longest time, I didn't think that was possible. The moment your hand is better, we're out of here. Hopefully, we can be out of here by the end of the week."

By the time they were done, Shaun had calmed down. With a sigh, he walked out into the bedroom and pulled out a needle and thread from the satchel. He crouched by the side of the bed. Desmond walked over to see him pull the stitching on their mattress apart. He crouched by his side.

"I cannot wait to get out of here," Shaun whispered.

"What are you doing?"

"Creating a safe spot for the laptop until we leave."

"You knew they weren't going to turn you down."

"Of course. Men like that are easy to read. Besides, they're better equipped to go Eden hunting than we are. We let them do the grunt work, and you make off like a bandit with the glory."

"How do we know this wasn't planned either?"

Shaun sighed and rocked back on his heels, giving Desmond an irritated look. "I asked the head of the assassin's order indirectly."

"How?"

Shaun growled. "I've been intercepting Lucy's emails and rewriting them before they go off to the head of the assassins' order."

Desmond nodded once and pursed his lips as Shaun went back to work. Then, on impulse, he leaned forward and kissed the man's cheek.

"Thanks," he said as he straightened. "When you get the chance, I wanna show you something when you give me the id and things."

He smiled at the light blush across Shaun's cheeks. "S—sure," came the stunned reply.

He bounced out to the main room with the Animus, where Lucy was typing furiously away at her computer. William was by her side, talking to her quietly. Rebecca, Erudito, Sujin Kim, and Alfred Green were playing cards at a table. The team they had partnered up with was pleasant to be around. Sujin was from a Korean team that had been attacked.

"Desmond," Sujin said with a smile, "come join us. We are playing the fish game."

"Go Fish?" He asked as he jogged over.

She smiled and nodded. "Yes."

He grinned. "Deal me in!"


	4. Chapter 4

Later that night, after dinner, he was lying on his bed as Shaun shuffled about. He watched the man lazily as he walked around. Finally, the historian stopped and stared at Desmond.

"Now, what did you want to show me earlier?"

"Oh!" He rose and walked over to the small closet, pulling out an outfit. "You'll need to change into this."

"Why on earth would I need to do that, Desmond?"

"Because when we…"

Shaun's eyes narrowed as he examined the outfit. "Why?"

"It's not enough to just go. You have to change. I remember that one thing about living on the run. Whenever I moved, I had to buy new clothes and shit. That's why I've never shown my tattoo to anyone here."

"You have—"

"You've seen part of it. The arm."

Shaun quirked an eyebrow as he adjusted his glasses. "You know, Miles, perhaps I underestimated you."

Desmond grinned as he set the outfit down. "I've got a black, collared button-up and khaki shorts, but Rebecca bought this a while ago to give to you for your birthday. She hid it in here, but she forgot."

He let the British man step to look at the clothing before taking off his hoodie and peeling off his shirt.

"These clothes look like my parents' from the punk movement in Britain."

It was the epitome of the British punk rock movement, down to the ripped skinny jeans with the Union Jack patch stitched onto the pocket and the fingerless studded gloves. Desmond laughed.

"Why did you take off your shirt?"

He spun around to show him the tattoo. He looked back over his shoulder to see Shaun's surprised expression.

"It's… an eagle."

"Done in the tribal pattern. I designed it myself before I got it done."

The tribal pattern expanded across his shoulders and down his back. He opened his arms, and the outer half of the eagle's wings stretched out. With his thickly muscled arms, the wings looked good—if could say so himself. The black lines and twirls looked like a striking eagle when he held his arms out, and with his arms closed, an eagle about to step on something.

"No too bad, huh?"

He shivered when he felt Shaun's fingers lightly trace the black lines on his skin. "You designed this?"

Desmond nodded, grinning proudly.

Shaun scoffed. "How much tackier can you get?"

He felt hurt, despite the fact Shaun still hadn't stopped tracing the pattern.

"And you still managed to make it look decent."

He perked slightly. "Really?"

"It looks good, Desmond. I can't believe you actually designed it yourself."

He lowered his arms as Shaun traced the tail feathers lower on his back.

"Too bad a leap of faith requires that you land on your back."

He hummed pleasurably as Shaun's hand ran back up his back. He felt Shaun's hands on his shoulders and give a light squeeze before sliding down his arms and twining their fingers together. Desmond laughed and spun around, twirling Shaun so their positions were reversed.

"Thank you," he murmured into his shoulder.

Shaun scoffed. "I'm not in this for just you."

"I don't care. Thank you."

The historian was silent as they stood there in a hug. After several minutes, Desmond let go and walked over to outfit.

"So, will you wear it?"

He could feel Shaun's eyes tracing over the eagle tattoo again. "I suppose I must, mustn't I? What will we do about our hair?"

Desmond frowned. "I don't think we'll have to go that far. We've got Abstergo to fallback on, remember? But we need a different style of clothes so that way they can't ask around and reference our clothes."

"But our facial features will—"

"Merely narrow us down. I don't look too much different from any other Italian if I cover the scar, and you just look like a red-haired, pasty white boy."

Shaun scowled, and Desmond laughed. "Sorry, but it's the truth. And unless you talk, they'll never know you're British."

Shaun moved over to him and gazed at the clothes. "I suppose we'll have to. Yes, I'll wear it."

Desmond grinned. "Awesome. When will we…"

He glanced as his injured hand.

"In a couple days, yet," Shaun said. "But put these away and let's go to bed."

Desmond smiled warmly at him. "I'm all for that."

They fell asleep shortly after. The next day drug by slowly, and Desmond was energized. He had a feeling it would only get worse the closer they got. Erudito laughed when he came hopping into the room.

"Perhaps we should put you back in, if only to let you spend some of that energy."

Desmond grinned. "I feel great today!"

"Why don't you take him out and run him?" William mentioned to the man.

Erudito groaned and leaned back. "Can't we let Sh—"

"No," William said.

Reluctantly, he took him outside, and Desmond spent the entire morning rolling, sparing, running, and playing in the free air. Once, he smacked his finger, and he cried out loudly and curled in on himself as he waited for the pain to subside. After that, he was back to playing around. He even ended up playing a game with ghosts from the bleeding effect, and he practically had to be drug back in for lunch.

Lucy smiled at him. "Have fun?"

He nodded vigorously and exhaled loudly. "Except when I fell and smashed my finger against the ground."

Lucy looked reassured. "I'm glad to see you're doing so well. As much as I hate to admit it, perhaps it was good that you cut off your finger."

Desmond frowned and looked at the empty space and the bandages. "I'd still rather have my finger."

Lucy looked upset as William came in to stand beside her. "Yes, but that last personality change really had us worried. You did need some time out of the Animus, even if we don't have it."

He wiggled his fingers. "I dunno. I guess I did. I'm glad we went out yesterday, even if it ended disastrously. It was good to see modern life around me."

William nodded. "When do you think you can sync to the Animus again?"

"By Friday."

They turned to see Shaun enter and walk to the cabinets to fish out his tea.

"Are you sure?" Lucy said.

"Abso-blinking-lutely positive. He'll be 'fit as a fiddle' and 'right as rain.'"

The man pulled out a tea box and set about making his tea. As the water boiled, he turned to look at Desmond. "He's a healthy lad, well built. He'll go Friday."

"Cool. How long till Friday?"

"Three days."

He groaned, getting restless. He counted the hours as they passed, getting more and more restless. He fiddled with the hidden blade as he waited, eventually making it look like Altair's, and not Ezio's. He grinned when he popped the blade out and held up his hand, making it look like his finger.

By the end of the night, he was begging to go back in just to kill time. They let him, but when Ezio fell and landed on his hands, Desmond desynced with a yelp of pain as his hand jerked. They decided he should stay out until it was healed.

The next day, when he came out of his bedroom, Lucy was in a tizzy. Rebecca, Sujin, and Erudito were working furiously at computers, and William and Alfred were gone.

"What happened?"

Lucy looked at him. "The main system of the order crashed. There's some sort of virus eating the memory clean, and nobody can reach anyone else. We think Abstergo is behind the attack."

"So what are we supposed to do?"

"Hold tight until we can contact them again."

Shaun came out moments later, yawning. "Morning. What's all the fuss?"

"Someone hacked the assassins' main computer system."

Shaun looked panicked and rushed to his computer, beginning to work. Desmond sighed and pulled a chair over to Shaun's desk, where he sat and watched him. He pulled up the internet after several minutes and opened up Aol. He watched as Shaun typed in "KingHastingsnator" in for his screen name and something long for the password. Desmond watched as he began typing in a blank email.

"Desmond," he typed.

He looked at Shaun briefly.

"The virus is mine. I've got it spread over several emails. The virus will buy us the time we need to get out. Can we leave tonight? I intercepted an email from Lucy using the virus, and she is getting antsy."

Desmond sighed and nodded once as he stood up. "Right. Since I'm useless here, can I be in charge of cooking today?"

They were more than happy to let him cook and do small things for him. At one point, William and Alfred came back.

"We couldn't reach them from the payphones."

"Their lines are down, everything. This attack has them completely shut down."

Desmond could swear he saw the faintest hint of a smirk on Shaun's face as he gave Lucy her cup of apple juice. He brought them lunches and dinners until they finally gave up late that night. They all looked shot from the frantic attempt to weed out the virus from the outside. When they trudged to their rooms, Shaun looked up and smirked.

"Ready?"

Desmond grinned. "Born ready."

They shut down and entered their room, where Shaun fished out a fake ID, a passport, and several other cards. He handed them to Desmond as took the outfit.

As Shaun stripped, he explained them. "The green card is your card at Abstergo if all goes to shit. The white one is something for security at airports and what not."

Desmond nodded and quickly undressed. He tugged on the khaki shorts with the frayed bottoms and tucked the cards into the wallet he had stuffed in one of the pockets. He tugged on the button-up, noticing briefly how different he looked in black. He tugged on some black sneakers and a black hooded jacket. He could hear Shaun moving around as he got dressed.

When he looked over at Shaun, he did a double take. Shaun was standing in a cut Union Jack tee with black netting underneath that led to his elbows, and the studded, fingerless gloves caught the light from the moon. A three-ringed choker and dark pewter military cross necklace rested around his neck, and the bloody-looking Union Jack suspenders that hung on either side of the black roughed up skinny jeans seemed to fit. He was wearing a beaten up pair of Converse.

Shaun pushed past him and went into the bathroom, returned a few minutes later with a piercing in his lip and two in each ear. He was smirking, the arrogant bastard.

"Like what you see, Miles?"

Desmond looked him over again, unable to believe his eyes as Shaun packed the laptop and Apple and then threw him the motorcycle keys.

"I cleaned myself up after becoming an assassin. A much more respectable fellow dressed in collared shirts and nice looking pants, not like the ratty ones you have on. I need to impress them, so after Rebecca saved me, I tidied up. I think Rebecca was upset."

Desmond grinned and came up behind him when he turned around. He slipped his hands around Shaun's waist and murmured, "So you got rid of this Shaun for douche bag Shaun?"

Shaun chuckled and leaned into the embrace. "Just because I'm in these clothes doesn't mean I still won't be a douche, but I had to make a good first impression if I was going to convince the Order to let me live. The jewelry Rebecca convinced me to save, thank God. I think she was hoping I'd eventually turn back into myself. I slept with the earrings in for the longest time. I'm surprised they didn't close over."

"I'd be a grouchy asshole if I had to dress like you did. I think I like this side better."

"If it'll get a looker like you to shag me, I'll even dye my hair purple for you."

Desmond laughed quietly. "I'd 'shag' you any day."

"Then we know what we're doing later on, now, hm?"

He bit Shaun's ear lightly and pulled away, twirling the keys. "Let's ride."

As they walked out of the house and to the storage room, Shaun called Abstergo and checked in. Desmond listened as he discussed the town they would stop in and the method of getting the paycheck. When he was done, Desmond was on the bike holding two helmets, one under his arm and the other out to Shaun.

"Punk or no, I'm not taking any risks of us being seen as we ride."

"We stop at a small town fifty miles north of here. We'll be heading toward London."

Desmond nodded once. Shaun smirked and put the helmet on, crawling on behind him and letting his hands slip around Desmond's waist. Desmond could feel his weight behind him as he started the motorcycle, the familiar vibrations and adrenaline rush completely natural to him. It even felt pleasant as it hummed up through his injured finger. Everything was right.

"Here we go," he murmured as they took out into the night. He could feel Shaun gradually loosen up and enjoy the ride as they sped down the streets and out of the town. The stars above seemed to be cheering them on as he thought about the "punk rock" Shaun behind him and the miles of open road ahead.

He had never felt so free in all his life.

* * *

**I'm sorry about the previous version. I've looked over it a little bit, and, holy crap, it was ridiculous. So, I apologize again. I'm going to blame it on the fact I wrote this entire thing at a chess tourney by brother was in this week. So I'll blame chess. Any thoughts? Comments? Complaints? I'd be more than happy to hear them.**


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